


Burning Burning Burning

by veni



Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:16:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1956420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veni/pseuds/veni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They fuck like a forest fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Burning Burning

**Author's Note:**

> Short Wrenchers porn. I was looking at [lowfiboyfightergirl's nsfw Wrenchers art](http://lowfiboyfightergirl.tumblr.com) and it made me want to write something awful and pornographic. Enjoy.

Wrench can fuck him long enough and hard enough to render Numbers a slack-jawed red-faced white-knuckled _mess_ , a human catastrophe begging for release in short stuttering gasps, hands trembling to such a degree that coherent signing is out of the question and, subsequently, his pleas for release are ignored. Wrench can fuck him like this, and he has fucked him like this, in a sort of drawn-out metaphysical ecstasy that leaves Numbers fulfilled in a way that money can’t, literally _full-filled_ —full of him, his cock and his tongue and his hands, filled with him, ready to split at the seams. Wrench fucks him like this, like a forest fire—slow at first, but it builds and grows until everything, everything is burning and Numbers burns with it, skin on fire, muscles clenching, sweat in his eyes. And Numbers thinks he’ll die like this, he’ll die with Wrench’s cock buried so deep into him that Numbers swears he can feel the throb of it in his throat. He’ll die with Wrench’s hands on his hips, he’ll die if Wrench fucking _looks_ at him like that again, like he’s worth _so much_ , like their fucking isn’t just fucking anymore but something stupid and poetic and nonsensical like _making_ _love_ or something equally absurd. And if it’s not a primal and detached affair anymore Numbers doesn’t know what he’ll do, but he thinks—he knows—it’ll be the death of him. So he doesn’t think about it, just leans into the skin beneath his lips and mouths _harder harder harder_ until he can’t think of anything, anything at all.


End file.
